


Breathing Without You

by artemisia_HQ



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Kageyama Tobio, M/M, Moving On, Post-Break Up, Post-Time Skip, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisia_HQ/pseuds/artemisia_HQ
Summary: Maybe falling out of love could be possible with time and distance by his side, to let go of things that he was still stubbornly and stupidly holding onto, in spite knowing that there was no one on the other end. Maybe he could finally give up the selfish fantasy of hoping there was still something to go back to, when Hinata was the type of person that moved forward and never looked back.With his volleyball career catapulting to new heights, there's nothing Kageyama could ever ask for. But despite all of these abundances and fulfilments, there's a hollowness inside him, a blackhole that remained when he pushed his sun away.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 12
Kudos: 164





	Breathing Without You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cathyngx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathyngx/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day! I'm on time this year! Yay! \\(@^0^@)/
> 
> First thing's first: this thing. Yes, I wrote angst for Valentine's. I wrote Kagehina breaking up. Yes, I did that. I committed blasphemy. Come at me with your torches and pitchforks. I'm ready.
> 
> Second thing: I actually had this idea waaaay back, and this was supposed to be the premise for [Endgame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428490), but then I was like, I could make a separate thing for this. And then Cathy came with me with this very idea and I was like omg I was totally thinking the same thing! So, long story short, this is our brainchild and I cannot thank Cathy enough for exchanging ideas with me starting from the drafts and then beta reading when I finished! Thank you thank you! \^o^/♥️
> 
> ***
> 
> Here's the [mini playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3KqBuZ2RHk0erE8M3ZMfZv?si=iqKAHkXETVWUQG1EBqx2BQ) I listened to when I wrote this
> 
> Cover is made by me ♥️♥️♥️

  
  
  
  


_And we know it's never simple, never easy,_

_Never a clean break. No one here to save me._

_You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

The smell of post-game victory lingers in the locker room, a weird mix of heavy sweat and air salonpas, as the rest of the team filters out. Tobio remains sitting in one of the benches, busying himself with folding his damp jersey and compressor shirt in his duffle bag, but every now and then, he checks his phone.

He clicks his tongue when the screen shows no new notifications, but the annoying thing is he doesn’t even know why _he’s_ annoyed.

Well, he knows _why_ , he just doesn’t want to admit it.

He taps the messaging app and scrolls through a conversation.

**Hinata:** have you ever tried a coconut ice cream, kageyama? it’s soooooo good! 😎🍨✨

**Me:** no

**Hinata:** (sent an image)

**Me:** looks like vanilla ice cream

**Hinata:** it does, doesn’t it?

 **Hinata:** but it’s got bits of coconut shavings and it’s just sooooo good 😋🌴

 **Hinata:** do you want me to send you a gallon?

**Me:** dumbass, it will melt before it even gets here

That was two days ago and Hinata hasn’t messaged him since.

There’s a second of deliberation before he taps the white space to type in a new message, then taps out of it again with an aggravated huff. Hinata is the one who always texts first, it will just be weird if it’s him. Weird and unusual and maybe even unsolicited.

Because there are no obligations, no fundamental protocol that he has to follow. If Hinata doesn’t want to talk, then Tobio has no right to demand it. Even if it’s a casual ‘ _hello_ ’ or ‘ _how you’ve been dumbass_ ,’ a friend who worries and checks up on his friend.

But the thing is, it will never be casual. Not between them. Not after everything that has happened.

Tobio wanted this, and despite this nagging feeling of regret, he still believes that it’s all for what is best. 

He says this, yet his traitorous heart skyrockets to the atmosphere when his phone chimes, Hinata’s name on the screen. He almost drops his phone as he frantically opens the message. 

It's a picture of a tiny turtle waddling on the shore. Tobio’s lips start to wobble, and despite being alone, he covers it with the back of his palm.

**Hinata:** (sent a picture)

 **Hinata:** isn’t he cute???? 🥰🥺

 **Hinata:** well, idk if it’s a he or a she 

**Hinata:** what do you think, kageyama-kun? 🤔

Chest pounding and hands trembling, he types out his reply.

**Me:** it’s obviously a she, dumbass

It doesn’t take long for Hinata to answer.

**Hinata:** oh!

 **Hinata:** i think you’re right!!!

 **Hinata:** she is pretty!!! 🐢😍💖💗

Tobio types in another reply when he gets on the train, and they exchange messages until Hinata has to go for one of his jobs.

He plops down on his bed and stares at the picture for an absurd amount of time; yes, the turtle is cute and all, but his eyes are more focused on the small, tanned hand holding up a peace sign just a little off the left of the frame. The small hand that is calloused and warm and fits so perfectly in his.

Used to, anyway.

* * *

_“What’s going to happen to us next year?”_

It was the question that Tobio asked a little over a year earlier, the question that was always nettling on the back of his mind since the start of their last year in high school, but was always pushed back, delayed and denied, until Tobio couldn’t.

Hinata didn’t understand the question at first, and he answered without skipping a beat, _“We’ll be playing volleyball, of course!”_ He took one final bite on his meatbun before he continued, _“I’m going to train so hard and then I’ll beat you then kiss you after so you’ll know there’s no hard feelings.”_

Hinata skipped and hummed ahead, blissfully unaware of Tobio’s internal turmoil.

 _“I mean us,”_ Tobio whispered, and a part of him wished Hinata hadn’t heard. But he did, and he turned to face Tobio.

 _“What about us?”_ he asked, head tilting to the side like he always did when he’s confused.

Tobio inhaled deeply. _“I think…we should focus on volleyball first.”_

The minutes of silence that followed was torturous, and for a moment, Tobio considered taking it back, waved it off as a joke.

Dating Hinata was, without a doubt, one of the best things that had ever happened to him. It was something he never knew he needed and wanted until he got it, and once he did, he couldn’t imagine living a life not to possess something as exciting and warm, feelings that he only used to associate with volleyball. And even that evolved to mean something more the moment Hinata came barreling into his life.

He never knew he could crave closeness and affection as much as he did in all the years they’ve been together, much less be able to reciprocate what was given to him. He never knew he’d ever want to wake up to a warm body pressed against him, soft hair tickling his nose when the source of that warmth snuggled closer to his chest. He never knew talking to someone until the wee hours of the night as if they didn’t spend the entire day together would be something special, even if he had to cut off a few hours of sleep.

He never knew that a single touch could reduce him wanting for more, a single kiss would make him hunger, and a single night spent trapped in each other’s heated embrace would leave him in thirst, and how those single moments turned into twice, then thrice, until he lost count, lost in this bubble of happiness and belonging they created for themselves.

But it is exactly that—just a bubble, a tiny, insignificant space against the entirety and limitless possibilities the rest of the world has to offer. Hinata is a person who was destined to fly even beyond the realm of the possible, and Tobio supposed he is, too, their equal drive to break the barriers of limitations said as much.

It’s a whole new world out there, and even though Tobio considered his’ embodied in the form of sunshine smiles and golden eyes, an extension of his love for volleyball, he wasn’t sure if Hinata felt the same. He loved Tobio now, has said it a hundred times in different forms and ways, but distance and time weren’t consequential. What would happen if it were?

Even though it was a struggle, he maintained eye contact, hoping that his heart being wrung dry wouldn’t show. _“I think we should…end this now. We’re going to be busy with volleyball, anyway,”_ he says, words thick and grainy.

Hinata just stared at him, confusion still very apparent on his face, before it morphed into something else, something indescribable because there’s literally nothing to describe. It was just a blank, flat stare, and his voice was just as blank when he spoke.

_“Is that really the reason?”_

_“What other reason do you want? Of course, it’s going to be volleyball!”_ Tobio yelled, an impulse whenever Hinata contradicted him. Or maybe, in defense.

But Hinata didn’t yell back; his vacant stare crumpled, shoulders drooping. _“Is it because I don’t fit in in your hotshot volleyball career?”_ he asked quietly.

 _“What? No!”_ Tobio shouted. Hinata wasn’t getting any of this and had gone completely off tangent. _“That’s not what I’m saying!”_

_“Just tell me if you don’t like me anymore! You don’t have to make up so many excuses!”_ Hinata shouted back, returning Tobio’s frustration.

_“I don’t like you, dumbass, I’m fucking in love with you!”_

_“If you still love me then why are you doing this?!”_

Tobio groaned in exasperation, roughly dragging a hand through his hair. _“I just told you! This isn’t about feelings, Hinata, this is about volleyball!”_ The awareness that they were having this conversation in the middle of the street finally struck, but that was the least of his problems. He had to make Hinata understand, he had to convince him. Because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure if he could convince _himself_.

 _"Let’s be realistic, here,"_ he tried explaining, whether that was for him or Hinata, he couldn’t tell. _“We’ll both be too busy. We’re going to be thousands of kilometers apart and—”_

 _And I’m scared of losing you to the distance. I’m scared of holding you down, of_ you _holding_ me _down. I’m scared that you’re going to realize that the world is so much more than the four corners of a small gym and dating an egotistical, selfish jerk isn’t exactly the greatest idea. I’m scared that you’ll forget about me sooner than later, while I’m still here thinking everything will be the same._

He didn’t say. What he did say out loud, was this:

_“Everything’s going to change.”_

His lungs were starting to get tight as he waited for Hinata to say something, anything, even if he won’t like it. At that point, he didn’t even know the difference.

 _“Is this what you really want, Kageyama?”_ Hinata eventually asked.

 _“This isn’t about what I want,”_ Tobio said, the most he’d been honest in this conversation. _“I just think that this is for the best. For the both of us.”_

_“How do you know what’s best for me and what isn’t?”_

_“Because I know you.”_

_“You do, huh? Do you also know that you’re hurting me right now?”_ Hinata scoffed, glaring at Tobio. But it was short-lived, and it softened as he closed the distance between them in two easy steps.

 _“If you know what’s best for me, you should know that it's doing all of this with you,”_ he whispered, hands curling on Tobio's jacket as those glossy, amber eyes stared up at him.

It’s just like how he asked for tosses.

Tosses that Tobio knew he wasn’t the only one capable of giving. 

Other things that someone else could give as well as he did, or maybe even more.

So as gently as he could, he tugged off the small fists clutching his jacket, ignoring the pained, crestfallen look at the usually beaming face, and the way his own heart crumpled like thin metal.

 _“This is not easy for me, too,”_ he said.

Hinata stared at his hands, before looking up once again. _“Then why?”_ he demanded, tears pricking on the corner of his eyes. _“Why do you make it seem like it is?”_

_“Hinata…”_

_“Do you even—”_ he paused to take a breath as his voice hitched _“—do the past two years mean nothing to you? Is it really that easy to let go?”_

Tears started to fall then, and Tobio wanted nothing more to pull him close and wipe it all away, to take back everything he had said.

But he didn’t. 

_“That’s not what I’m saying,”_ Tobio countered. He curled his hands into a tight fist to keep them from trembling. _“It’s not… things are not as simple as that.”_

_“Then explain it to me!”_ Hinata cried, face red.

 _“I already did!”_ Tobio grumbled. _“I told you we need to focus on volleyball first!”_

_“What, you think we couldn’t do that if we’re together?”_

_“We aren’t going to be together, dumbass! That’s what I’m trying to say here!”_ Tobio bellowed, making Hinata take a step back. _“We’re going to be an entire ocean apart, and I can’t let something like this distract us from what’s important!”_

The words were already out there before he realized, and he didn’t have the means to take them back when the damage had already been done.

 _“A dis—a distraction?”_ Hinata rasped out a sound that sounded more like he was sucker punched by a ball in the gut. _“That’s all this is to you? A distraction?_ I _am just a distraction?!”_ he snarled as his hands were back on Tobio, gripping and pulling on the collar as his face contorted into a look of unbridled anger, even as a stream of tears gushed down his cheeks.

There was no other way to go around this, and any other means would just bring them in circles, until Tobio had to give in. But not this time. He was doing this for what was good for both of them, and if Hinata couldn’t see that when Tobio was being honest, then there’s no other way to do it.

So he lied, _“Yes.”_

With a shaky exhale, Hinata released his hold on Tobio. He scrubbed his dripping face with his sleeves as he turned without a second glance nor another say, and he ran, creating distance, just as Tobio wanted.

* * *

Their remaining weeks in Karasuno following that day were unbearable. They hadn’t told the team, but they suspected something was off when he and Hinata barely interacted outside the court. Their closest friends figured it out in no time, but they didn’t pry. Tobio was thankful for that, honestly; he didn’t know if he’ll be able to justify what he did when the only person he thought could understand him in everything didn’t.

Nearing graduation, they were, more or less, back to how they were in the beginning. That seemed like some strange work of coincidence or fate, like the universe was taunting them. But it was fine, it was far better than the complete hostility Hinata radiated, and when he declared that he’ll see Tobio _later_ , and not the finality of _goodbye_ , Tobio was relieved. At least that whole blow-up wasn't enough to deter Hinata from his promise.

But after that, it was radio silence once again. Tobio moved to Tokyo a few months later, and shortly afterwards, Hinata flew to Brazil, and Tobio only knew about it through their _Line_ group chat. It was their only way of communication, to some extent, since they never directly ‘talked’ to each other. But Hinata, being _Hinata_ , he kept the group posted on the daily, and Tobio was pretty content with that. At least he wasn’t being left out.

Yet, there wasn’t a day that passed that he didn’t miss the dumbass, and some days were just horrible that he even dared to consider to just skip practice in favor of curling up in his bed and wallow in self-pity and regret. But he couldn’t do that despite feeling and looking like shit (and his teammates said as much, even Ushijima-san commented that he was looking ‘ _murderous_ ’ more than usual), and he settled into putting all his restless anger and frustration into playing.

The nights were the worst. He _accidentally_ brought one of Hinata’s shirts stocked up on Tobio’s house for spontaneous sleepovers. He had it tucked under his pillow, the smell of summer and citrus and warmth lulled him to sleep, and if he imagined hard enough, it was as if Hinata was there with him, all nestled on Tobio’s chest, soft breathing rising and falling in tandem with his.

Sometimes, the things he would fantasize about would stray, crossing the line of innocent cuddling to full-on sinning, scrolling through photos that Tobio can't bring himself to delete, recalling visions of desperate gasps and warm, roaming hands in his mind as he worked himself, clutching the shirt tightly to the memory of his ex-boyfriend moaning his name, Tobio groaning in response, as he soiled all over himself and his bed sheets.

He was a disgusting piece of shit, he knew, but that didn’t stop him. For a while, at least, until Hinata’s scent started to taper off into nothing but the smell of ratty, old t-shirt. Yet he couldn’t find it in him to throw it away, and it remained at the bottom of his sock drawer.

Most of the time.

This wasn’t really playing into the whole forgetting-everything-except-volleyball, but what could he do? Denying that he was still in love with Hinata would be a waste of time, and would fool absolutely no one. And he never did say he wasn’t anymore, either.

Even still, he knew that he had to move on at some point, since Hinata seemed to be doing fine without Tobio in his life, just as he thought. He just hadn’t anticipated that being right would make everything else so wrong. 

So he put his all into volleyball, and it did help. Every drop of his energy, every chunk of effort, every piece of focus, he poured into the sport he loved, and it wasn’t all for naught. He was living the life he’d always wanted, the life that he and Kazuyo-san had always pictured all those years ago. He was a starter on a top-tier league and played games after amazing games to carry the pride of their country, with and against the best players, to top it all off. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

Time, at least, had taken pity on him, as his thoughts slowly rid itself of Hinata. Not completely—he suspected that he was physically and mentally incapable of doing that by then, but at least they were relegated to fewer and fewer frequencies. 

Maybe falling out of love could be possible with time and distance by his side, to let go of things that he was still stubbornly and stupidly holding onto, in spite knowing that there was no one on the other end. Maybe he could finally give up the selfish fantasy of hoping there was still something to go back to, when Hinata was the type of person that moved forward and never looked back.

* * *

**Hinata:** i watched your game

 **Hinata:** congrats on that service ace!!!

Tobio stared at the message, going back and forth from the icon of the sender to the name and to message itself. He did this whole routine for an hour before it finally sunk in.

After six months of nothing, Hinata contacted him. And he still used an excessive amount of exclamation points.

His thumbs were already flying before he could stop himself, grinning like crazy.

**Me:** thanks

Three dots pulsed as Hinata typed.

Was he waiting for Tobio to answer? He only read the message when they landed back in Tokyo, and he spent the rest of the ride to his apartment having a minor mental breakdown as he switched between elation and relief and confusion.

Why reach out now? Why now when Tobio had finally reached that stage of acceptance? How did the walls he so painstakingly built easily crumble at the force of a simple message?

More importantly, has Hinata forgiven him yet?

Or was he finally able to go past whatever he felt for Tobio that talking to him now wasn’t a big of a deal anymore?

**Hinata:** sorry, i only watched the recording just now

 **Hinata:** i was too busy

_Is that really your reason?_ Tobio wanted to ask, then he scoffed bitterly when he remembered that Hinata asked him the exact same thing. Maybe they both had the penchant for sensing out poor excuses. Like how a liar can spot another liar.

**Me:** it’s fine

 **Me:** how have you been?

Tobio hesitated for a few seconds, but before he could change his mind, he hit send. Another message came through mere millisecond after his.

**Hinata:** how you doing???

His bed squeaked when he threw himself into it, rolling on his stomach as he typed.

**Me:** good

**Hinata:** kageyama…

Tobio’s heart clenches.

**Hinata:** can i call you?

He sat up quickly, blinking at his phone. His stomach nosedived six feet below the ground as he contemplated how to answer, taking an unnecessary amount of time in doing so.

**Hinata:** it’s ok if you’re too busy

 **Hinata:** sorry if i’m bothering you

_That’s supposed to be my line_ , he thinks. But go _fucking_ figure, his pride just wouldn’t let him say those words out loud.

**Me:** stop apologizing

 **Me:** you can call

Half a year was compressed into a single afternoon (in Hinata’s case, evening), and when they got past that initial awkwardness and stiffness that came from messy break-ups and falling outs, it was as if nothing really changed.

It was as if they’re back in the same town, thirty minutes apart, two teenagers who could talk about nothing and everything, conversations that would get sidetracked in between senseless arguing and petty bantering. 

It was as if they never lost each other.

Maybe they never did. 

* * *

Some days Tobio let Hinata’s messages sit on his inbox, just to find out if he has the mental will to ignore them, or a sick experiment to see if Hinata will get pissed and cut him off again.

Neither option made headway, and he admits that it was a dick move when Hinata had given him the opportunity to at least be his friend again. So he replies to Hinata’s messages as soon and as often as he could, no matter how nonsense or random they were. And even on unintentional instances that he was late to comment on yet another picture the little weirdo had sent, Hinata never called him out on it. He would just pick it up where they left off.

Even their _Line_ group chat seems much livelier, with their bickering and arguments gracing every conversation. Tsukishima threatened to mute them, but his icon popping as _‘read’_ says otherwise.

They never talked about the falling-out, or the aftermath that followed. It’s an unspoken taboo, and frankly, there’s no point in bringing it up when things are still so fragile and volatile and one small tip off the edge will shatter everything. 

Even though something pesters at Tobio to apologize.

But what is there to apologize for when Hinata seems to have accepted it and finally understood Tobio’s intentions? It’s counterintuitive, and Tobio was right in the end. It will only make things complicated and awkward, so he keeps that urge in, a minor inconvenience in maintaining a casual friendship with his ex.

Sundays become sort of an unwritten schedule for a call. They both have day offs during that day, and Hinata regales him with random stories and weird anecdotes about his week. Tobio shares some of his own, but in comparison to Hinata’s, they seem lackluster. Hinata doesn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he coaxes Tobio to share. 

Well, of course he’s interested, he’s probably just taking notes on Tobio’s volleyball career, kind of like recon. 

_“Wow, your team took the championship again this season, huh? That’s so cool!”_ Hinata gushes on the other line. Tobio has just finished a shower after his afternoon jog and he can hear the splash of water and plates clattering on Hinata’s end. He must have just finished breakfast. 

“You're going to get your phone wet, dumbass,” Tobio says.

_“It’s fine! I’m on speaker, anyway.”_

“Oh.”

 _“Yep! So, what’s it like playing with Ushijima-san? Does he still sound like a thirty-year old man? Is he still scary? Who do you think is scarier, you or him?”_ Hinata prattles in a single breath. 

Tobio suppresses the grin curving his lips. He fails. “He’s not scary. And _I’m_ not scary.”

 _“Uh-huh,”_ Hinata says. Tobio can practically hear the roll of his eyes, this bastard. _“Must be so amazing playing with all these cool players we used to read about on Monthly Volleyball.”_

There’s not a hint of bitterness in those words, only genuine excitement, but there's envy in there, no doubt. The dumbass always sounds the way he feels, a thing Tobio sometimes wishes he can replicate.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome,” Tobio says. He plops down on the couch as he dries his hair with a towel. “I saw one of your games on your tube.”

_“My tube?”_

“Yeah, that website where you post videos.”

There’s a long beat of silence aside from the muffled sound of running water. Then a snort, quickly followed by a wheezing laugh that verges on hysterical. 

“Oi, what’s so funny?” Tobio demands, brows furrowing.

Hinata just cackles even more. _“Y-your t-tube?! Oh my god! T-that’s so funny!”_

“Hinata, what the fuck?”

_“It’s YouTube, you dork!”_

Tobio huffs out a breath, face heating. “I-I know that! That’s what I said! You just heard wrong, dumbass!”

 _“Sure, Kageyama-kun~”_ Hinata mocks. _“Your tube, pfft!”_

“I’m hanging up.”

 _“Wait, no! I’m sorry!”_ Hinata shouts, and Tobio’s stomach literally whoops at the sound of Hinata getting frantic at Tobio’s threat. He decides to tease him, because that’s what he does, and… just because.

“Seriously, why am I still talking to you?” Tobio gibes, making sure he sounds annoyed, which takes no effort at all. 

But Hinata doesn’t react aggressively as he normally would. In fact, there’s no reaction at all, just dead, staticky silence. Did he get disconnected?

Tobio lifts his phone away from his ear to check. The call is still ongoing.

“Hinata?” 

A sigh, and then quietly, _“That’s a good question.”_

“Uhh… what—” Tobio falters. What’s going on?

 _“Nothing. Sorry,”_ Hinata says, then as if he wasn’t being weird just five seconds ago, he jumps to a different topic. _“So I gotta tell you about this dude I paired up with…”_

The rest of their call carries on without any awkward silences and odd shifts in mood. Hinata even sounds perkier than before, and they have a record-breaking three hours, six minutes, and forty-two seconds of call time, which Tobio isn’t sure if that’s entirely correct. It felt like it lasted for just ten minutes. 

Keeping a working friendship with an ex isn’t as hard as Tobio initially thought it would be. Not that he has many comparisons to make a solid verdict, the point is, it is possible. Maybe they’re just meant to have this connection no matter what status they’re in. That, or it’s really just Hinata and his natural talent to draw people to him and his inability to hold a grudge. 

_‘I don’t like it when people don’t get along,’_ he once said to Tobio. 

But to give them _both_ credit, it’s amazing how they seem to come in this wordless agreement to keep their conversations nowhere near intrusive, threading this thin line of just friends and former lovers. No texts of ‘ _good mornings_ ’ or ‘ _good nights_ ’ just because, or ‘ _have you eaten yet_ ’ or ‘ _take care of yourself_ .’ No ‘ _I miss you_ ’ and ‘ _I wish you were here_.’ Even if it’s true. 

In Tobio’s case, at least. 

Eventually, being friends with Hinata takes a little less effort. Their messages dwindle, too, yet enough to still have that assurance that when they do make contact, the other will answer. Sundays, however, remain as their little ‘ _catching up_ ’ session for the week.

Until a month had gone of no texts or calls, and Hinata, once again, disappeared in Tobio’s life.

* * *

_“If you were to date anyone else, who would it be?”_ Hinata asked as his fingers traced Tobio’s collarbone. The question didn’t seem to be one that was well-thought out, or even intended—just another spontaneous thing that got inside that little orange head.

Tobio hummed and inhaled the citrusy scent of slightly damp hair, arms wrapping around slender shoulders even tighter. It was far too humid to be entangled like this, but it’s too late to concern themselves with it following what they just did, and Hinata liked to cuddle as they basked in the afterglow. 

It was kind of calming, and Tobio liked it, too, even if he’s not vocal about it. His eyes started to close.

 _“Answer me, Sleepyama,”_ Hinata urged, lightly headbutting Tobio on the chest, making him snap his eyes open.

 _“What even was that question, dumbass,”_ Tobio quipped. Then he yawned. _“Is this your shitty way of breaking up with me?”_

Another headbutt on the chest answered him, only harder. Tobio let out a tiny wheeze.

 _“No, stupid,”_ Hinata said, pouting. _“I’m just curious.”_

Tobio considered the question, mostly just to humor his weird boyfriend. _“I don’t know. Maybe someone who loves volleyball as much as I do._

_“And?”_ Hinata prompted.

 _“And, what else is there?”_ Tobio asked, giving a small tug on the hair between his fingers. 

Hinata retaliated by biting Tobio at the curve of his neck, sending a tingle of electricity up and down Tobio’s spine, heat curling low in his abdomen.

 _“Stop that,”_ Tobio warned. As much as he liked to use this rare opportunity of being alone in Hinata’s house, they still have practice early tomorrow morning, and despite Hinata’s bravado and urging that he could take whatever Tobio gave him as many times as they wanted, Tobio didn’t want to risk it, inhuman stamina aside.

Thankfully, Hinata heeded him and he settled by nuzzling his face further in Tobio’s neck, sneaking in a soft kiss on his jaw. It still pulled his strings taut with want, but not so much, and his resolve and self-control remained intact.

 _“Come on, there must be something else,”_ Hinata mumbles in Tobio’s shoulders. _“You know, like physical appearances, what they’re like, if they prefer sweet buns over curry buns.”_

Tobio sighed. _“Fine. I want someone with ridiculous orange hair, and stupidly big and brown eyes with a loud, babbling mouth that could eat five curry buns and still have room for dinner because they have a blackhole for a stomach despite being so short.”_

He ended his whole speech with a gentle jab on his boyfriend’s stomach, fingers running on his sides, and Hinata writhed and bucked, laughing and snorting, as his tiny hands tried to pry off Tobio’s tickling assault. 

_“Waaah—s-stop it! HAHAHAHA! K-Kageyama—stop—HAHAHAHA!” Hinata gasped in between his laughter. “I get it! I ge-t it—mmpf!”_

Tobio stopped, only to wrap his arms and legs around the small, squirming body, tucking that giggling round face on his chest as he rested his chin atop soft, curly hair. 

_“Do you now?”_ Tobio challenged, teasing. 

_“Yessir,”_ Hinata answered with a snicker. 

It took him about a millisecond of hesitation, then Tobio returned the question, _“What about you?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Same question, dumbass.”_

A pair of strong arms maneuvered out to circle around Tobio’s neck, tugging him closer, as if the zero amount of space between them was still a nuisance. 

_“You already know the answer,”_ Hinata whispered, then he shifted, golden eyes locking with Tobio before warm lips pressed against his own.

 _“There’s no one but you, too.”_

* * *

Hinata’s new girlfriend is a pretty brunette with big, doe-like eyes, beautiful tanned skin, and an easy smile that is impossible not to like. 

She’s everything that Tobio is not. 

He’s only gotten this meager information from a picture that Hinata posted on his social media: equally sun-kissed arms wrapped over each other’s shoulders, all flushed cheeks and beaming smiles, that you can physically feel the happiness emitting from that ridiculously bright photograph.

The caption simply reads, _‘My girl’_ followed by a thousand heart emojis. 

Tobio feels like the world just fling itself out of orbit and straight into oblivion. 

One full month of agonizing torture and beating himself up trying to figure out what went wrong for Hinata to shun him out of the blue. A dozen different possibilities jump through his mind like jagged stones, and along with it, an unsettling mix of emotions ranging from worry to fear to annoyance, before it settles on the one thing he tries so hard not to feel, until it is hammered home by one single post. 

Betrayal. 

And hurt, and devastation, and that deteriorating realization of your worst fear coming to life. 

Hinata’s words come echoing back: 

_‘Do the past two years mean nothing to you? Is it really that easy to let go?’_

It’s ironic, really, how the very thing Hinata accused Tobio of, the very thing Tobio utterly failed to do, is now the same thing Hinata has so _very easily_ done. 

Yet there’s a certain degree of expectation there, that silent resignation of being proven right, and it’s comforting in a way, as if his heart had their defenses and barriers at the ready, just in case. 

But… 

It still hurts.

It fucking _hurts_.

And like a truckload of salt to a gashing, festering wound, a part of him harbors resentment. Why didn’t Hinata tell him? Didn’t he deserve at least a proper goodbye? A simple fucking closure would have been nice instead of dropping off the face of the earth without warning, only to resurface and break Tobio’s heart all over again. 

But he understands that this anger is not justified, not for Hinata. This rage is for himself. He can’t just demand explanations and obligations when they don’t exist. 

Not anymore.

Happiness shouldn’t be tainted, especially for the person who deserves all the joy and love the world has to offer. Hinata deserves more and beyond, and how can Tobio give more when he barely has enough for himself.

* * *

Sendai hasn’t changed all that much since the last time Tobio visited. It’s comforting, somehow, to still have this portion of constant in his life in the thick of all these changes.

It’s eerily quiet when he gets home. That hasn’t changed either. He got a text from Miwa that she’ll be home come evening and there’s some food in the fridge if he wants to eat. He’s not in the mood for it, however. 

Entering his old room feels like he’s been slapped left and right by the rush of memories that had resided and permeated in every corner. A lot of firsts happened here, and in hindsight, a lot of it were lasts, too, but he was oblivious and unsuspecting then, took all of it for granted.

If only he knew better.

It’s just unfair, how all of this still affects him so greatly and severely, how he still lies suspended in these feelings of longing, trapped in the same desire to be wanted just as much. That despite learning to drudge through life without that beacon to guide him, to become a better person without reliance from anyone, to familiarize himself with independence by his own volition, why does it all for short in the face of this unabating void that seems to suck the ever-loving shit out of everything.

How much more time must he consume to heal? To just forget?

Why was it so easy to break yet so hard to let go?

He decides to go for a run, quickly changing out of his jeans to his running gear. He meant to sleep as soon as he gets home, but solitude will only feed his cloudy thoughts and torment him with brighter times.

It’s far too windy, but he shrugs it off, turning right on instinct when he steps out. Fifteen minutes later and he passes by Karasuno, and an unbidden smile forms on his lips. This place will always encapsulate the fondest days of his life, and in some way, it overwhelms the twinge of bittersweet nostalgia that comes along with it. 

Muscle memory carries him all throughout his old jogging route, trudging up the hill they used to do their running drills on—and one of his and Hinata’s favorite race tracks. He still remembers the best angle to approach that uphill curve, and the taunts that he would shout as he widened their gap. If he imagined enough, he can almost hear the tailing thuds behind him, inching closer and closer until it’s right beside him. 

It sounds so real it’s almost creepy. He can ever hear measured breathing and panting, only it doesn’t sound like Hinata at all. And he certainly isn’t some lanky giant with blonde hair and glasses. 

Tobio’s brain finally catches up. 

“What the fuck—?!” he shrieks, almost tripping in his surprise. 

Tsukishima glances at him from the corner of his eyes, one brow raised. “Is that how you greet people in Tokyo?” 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” 

“Well, as you can clearly see, I’m running.”

“Since when do you run _voluntarily_?!” Tobio accuses, like it’s a personal insult somehow.

The other man just scoffs. “Idiot.” 

Oh, right, Tsukishima plays professionally now, too. Tobio’s brain is all over the place this day, it seems. 

“I’m not an idiot,” Tobio grumbles, increasing his pace, just a little. 

“Sure,” Tsukishima deadpans. 

They jog in silence, Tobio a few meters ahead as Tsukishima lags behind. He’s surprised, and maybe a bit impressed, that he can keep up, or even have the stamina for it, although that shouldn’t come as a shock at this point. 

Five kilometers later, they stop to rest in a park. Tsukishima wordlessly hands him a water bottle and Tobio takes it with a nod of thanks. 

“Hinata hasn’t contacted me, either,” Tsukishima says with no preamble, then proceeds to drink his water as Tobio sputters and coughs on his own. 

When he comes to, he scowls at the lanky bastard. “I didn’t ask,” he mutters. 

“Oh please, it’s written all over your face.” 

Tobio heaves out an angry exhale, glaring at his feet. “Whatever.” 

“I don’t think that girl is his girlfriend.”

“Hah?” Tobio whips his head to face Tsukishima, who just shrugs at him, then takes one final sip from his bottle and throws it in a nearby thrash bin. 

“At least I think so,” he says. 

“The caption literally says ‘ _my girl,’”_ Tobio points out. Bile starts to rise on his throat as he talks. “Even I know what that means.”

“That can mean any number of things,” Tsukishima says with a roll of his eyes. “How many times has he called Yachi-san that?”

Tobio frowns at the immediate answer his brain supplies. _Many times._

“Many times,” he says out loud. But that doesn’t prove anything because— “Yachi-san is a friend, though.”

“As this girl could be.” 

“And I _think_ ,” Tobio grits, anger reflexively countering the baseless hope poking in his chest, “that that girl is exactly what Hinata says she is. His.” 

“Jealousy does not look good on you, King,” Tsukishima jabs, unfazed. “Seriously, you look like shit.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Tobio scoffs. He rubs a rough hand over his face, almost unconsciously, as if that gesture would wipe all the shittiness away. 

* * *

With a grunt and low rumble of annoyance vibrating in his throat, Tobio blindly reaches for his ringing phone on the bedside table. Slowly and reluctantly, his eyes blink open, squinting at the sudden glare of the screen.

Who the fuck even calls at two in the morning? Did someone die? This better be something worse than that to even dare call Tobio in this ungodly hour. 

It’s an unknown number. 

His irritation spikes. _Fuck you, mysterious caller, and fuck your shitty sense of timing._

His finger hovers over the ‘reject’ button, eyes drooping close.

 _“Kageyama…?”_

It’s like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice over his head and he jolts upright, consciousness turning on at the tinny, small voice he can recognize anywhere. 

“H-Hinata?” he stammers, voice cracking and raspy, but he doesn’t give a shit.

It’s Hinata.

It’s his voice 

He’s calling him. 

Hinata. 

_“Yeah, it’s me…uhm…sorry, were you asleep? I’ll hang up—”_

“No!” Tobio screeches, then he winces at his volume. “No, it’s…it’s fine…” 

He hears the soft crashing of waves and the gentle whistles of breeze on the other end. Is Hinata on the beach? What time is it in Brazil now? Afternoon?

It’s been thirty seconds of silence. 

“Hinata?” Tobio says quietly. 

_“Sorry…I just—I just want—Kageyama, I—”_ Hinata breaks into a muffled sob, and the wretched sound rips off Tobio’s already butchered heart. 

“Hey, calm down,” he says softly, putting comfort in his voice as he can possibly muster. But Hinata continues his quiet cries and shaky hiccups, and Tobio is already considering booking a ticket to Brazil just to hold him close and stroke his hair, like he used to whenever Hinata feels particularly down and gloomy on some days. It happened often; the sun doesn’t always shine, after all.

But he knows he can’t just fly or immediately materialize to do all those things, and all he _can_ do is listen as Hinata cries alone in a foreign country. Tobio never felt so useless in his life. 

_“I’m sorry, Kageyama, I’m so sorry…”_ Hinata sobs in between his sniveling, and Tobio can feel his own lungs collapse with each heaving breath Hinata takes. 

“It’s okay,” he assures him, although he doesn’t really know exactly what Hinata is apologizing for. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll always forgive him. “It’s okay—” 

_“I miss you so much, Tobio.”_

Tobio freezes. He feels nothing at first, then everything explodes like starburst, his constricting chest expanding with intense warmth at the enormity of feelings wrapped in every syllable of those words, all the longing and yearning in the world condensed in that single sentence.

His _name_. 

It leaves him speechless, conjuring up a response equal in bearing and weight seems impossible. 

_“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”_

That quickly snaps him out of his daze. 

“No, wait—!” 

Only the beeping sound of a disconnected line answers him. 

The screen of his phone dims, swallowing his room in darkness and silence. 

Tobio can feel the blood pulsing beneath his skin, rapid palpitations that send waves of a hundred different emotions. But one thing is clear: he can’t let Hinata assume all the initiative. He can’t let his fear reign control over him anymore, to let his pride justify everything because of that fear. He can’t let all his insecurities drown him and keep him away from the surface. He has to get rid of these shackles, to be able to breathe again. 

He’s always been selfish, so why can’t he be that for the things that truly mattered? 

Frantic, he calls the number again. 

It keeps on ringing. 

Hinata is not answering. 

But Tobio is nothing but persistent, and if Hinata is being a stubborn little shit, well, two can play at that game.

Annoyance and dread is a nasty combination, and with every unanswered beep, a piece of his composure breaks, yet he relents. 

He’s never heard of a more relieving sound than the quiet, reluctant voice that peeps on the other end, _“Uhm…”_

“Hinata!” Tobio cries, jumping off his feet and standing on his bed. Feeling a little bit stupid, he sits back down and leans on the wall.

The other line remains quiet. Then he hears a sigh. 

_“That was selfish of me to say. Please don’t be mad. I won’t…I won’t bother you anymore.”_ Hinata’s trembling voice sounds lifeless, nothing but a quiet, rueful resignation. 

Tobio knows that feeling all too well. 

“No, you won’t,” he says, and he can hear Hinata suck in a breath. 

_“I’m really sorry…”_

“Because I’ll be bothering you from now on.” 

Silence, and then a confused, _“What?”_

Now it’s Tobio’s turn to draw in a steeling inhale, deep and purposeful. “Because I will call you and text you anytime I want. I will annoy you until you get mad, and then annoy you even more because that’s what I do. I will tell you _‘good morning’_ and _‘good night,’_ ask if you’ve eaten yet, nag at you to take care of yourself.” He smiles as a drop of tear falls unceremoniously down his cheeks, followed by another, and another. He’s never cried, not even once, even on the darkest hours where his mind was his own demon. 

But these aren’t sad tears, nor are they happy ones—these are just another manifestation of all these things pouring out of him, unfiltered and unblocked. 

“Because I fucking miss you, too, and not a day goes by that I don’t, and every single day that I don’t get to hear your loud, over-excited voice, I feel completely empty.” His voice started hitching somewhere in the middle of all that, but he doesn’t care. 

_“K-Kageyama…”_

And he’s not done yet. 

“That’s what being selfish is, dumbass,” he says, both teasing and affectionate in a way only he knows how. He swipes his wet face on the sleeves of his shirt, bracing himself for the hardest part.

“I know you have someone new now, and I’m happy for you.” Really, he is. “And I don’t have any right to demand anything from you or to make you choose me over her. But I am still _your_ best friend. You hear me? You’re _my_ best friend, and I care and worry about you, so don’t you dare shut me off again.” 

He’s not really sure how Hinata will respond, but whatever it is, he’ll accept it. At least he has said whatever that needs to be said. 

_"O-Okay.”_

“Okay?” He tries not to get too optimistic, but he’s failing.

 _“Okay, I won’t ignore you again,”_ Hinata clarifies. He sounds more like himself, lighter and less upset. 

“Good,” is all Tobio can say, lips curving into an uncontrollable grin. Elated couldn’t even begin to describe him right now. 

_“But I’m a little confused. What someone?”_ Hinata asks. 

The smile on Tobio’s face drops. “Your _girlfriend_ , idiot.” He’s not yet ready to talk about this. He might be partly accepting of it, but the wound is still fresh, and he needs more time to properly heal, so not yet— 

_“My girl—what? What are you talking about?”_ Hinata shrieks. _“I don’t have a girlfriend!”_

“Then who’s that girl in your post?” 

_“What post?”_ There’s a very brief pause, before, _“Oh! That’s Marina! We paired up on mixed games a couple of times. She’s not my girlfriend!”_

“But the caption…” Tobio presses, pushing down the rabid beast named hope _to stand the fuck down._

Hinata makes a noise that’s halfway between an exasperated groan and a laugh. _“She’s already married, you idiot! And she’s a lesbian!”_

Oh.

“Oh.”

And there goes the last hold on his restraints. 

_“Kageyama…were you…pfft…jealous?”_

Heat prickles quickly on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “I-I wasn’t!”

 _“You totally are!”_ Hinata cackles like the little shit he is. God, Tobio missed his laugh. _“You’re cute when you’re jealous, Kageyama-kun~”_

“S-shut up.” 

_“You have nothing to be jealous of,”_ Hinata says, low and assuring. _“Because I want you to annoy me and argue with me because that’s what we do. Because I want to say ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ but I want to hear you say it way more. Because even though I shut you out, I still like to pretend that you care and worry for me the way you used to, because as much as I try, it’s so easy to forget that we’re not together anymore.”_

Tobio parts his mouth open, but no sound comes out. He didn’t know guilt and relief and ecstasy could coexist simultaneously, but that is precisely what is happening right now; this weird mix of feelings he can’t even name properly. Only the fact that he is a gigantic idiot. 

“Hinata…” He breathes out, the only word that makes sense right now. 

_“I was mad at you, you know,”_ Hinata mutters, the pout in his voice unmistakable. 

“I know,” Tobio says. “So this past month of nothing…?” 

_“Was me trying to move on,”_ Hinata fills in. Then he laughs. _“But, heh, I failed! And here we are!”_

“Here we are,” Tobio echoes, smiling. 

_“But you were wrong, too. Nothing really changed.”_

“Yeah.” 

_“We really are idiots, aren’t we?”_

“Yeah,” Tobio agrees. _Maybe that’s why you’re meant to be together_ , his mind tells him unwittingly. 

He flops sideways back on his bed and buries his face on his pillow, smothering the crazy smile on his face. 

_“Kageyama?”_

“Hmm?” 

_“What do we do now?”_

Good question. The answer is apparent, obviously, there’s no denying that whatever it is that bonds him and Hinata, it’s unbreakable, and even if they try—and they did—it will always find a way to tie them up all over again, tighter, more intricate. Stronger. 

But— 

“I still think we need to focus on volleyball first,” Tobio answers truthfully, and he knows, this time, Hinata won’t misunderstand. 

And he’s right. 

_“Of course! I am going to beat your ass off, just you wait!”_ Hinata affirms, so brazenly confident. Tobio always loves that about him, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

“As if I’d let you, dumbass,” Tobio smirks. 

_“I’m not telling you everything about my training, you know.”_

“What?” 

Hinata bursts into a self-satisfied, teasing snicker. _“Hehe. So you better prepare your loser speech, Loseryama!”_

“You’re the loser, y-you…you dumbass loser!” Tobio fires back. 

He missed this. 

He missed them. 

Hinata is still giggling like some deranged idiot. _“And then? What happens after that?”_ he asks effortlessly, basically forcing Tobio into admitting what they both know the answer to. Which seems fair, to be honest; he started this whole mess after all. 

“After that, we can try again,” he says, face flushing and heart thundering. Then for good measure, he adds in “If you’re up for it,” like a challenge, because he knows that the competitive idiot won’t ever back down to one. 

_“Sounds crazy and stupid, but that’s basically us. You’re on!”_

Tobio can hear and see the smile in that declaration, and for the first time in what seems like an eternity of drowning in despair, he can finally breathe.

* * *

**_Five years later_ **

Tobio’s patience has never been stellar to begin with, but this long, dragging wait is tearing it up to pieces. Although it’s less of the actual waiting, but more of the rising anticipation and nerves crawling in every inch of his skin.

But it won’t take long now, as the stream of newly-arrived passengers enter the terminal. Tobio considers sending a quick text of his exact location so he doesn’t have to elbow his way on the crowd of people, but knowing Shouyou, he’s probably too excited to check his phone, and knowing himself, any additional amount of waiting will do nothing good. So he gets as close as he possibly can, and this is one of the instances his height is a useful asset outside of volleyball. He towers above everyone, eyes scanning. 

Then he spots him immediately; that glaring beacon of a hair is just screaming to be noticed. That, and Shouyou is tanned as all hell, skin a beautiful golden-brown that outshines everything.

They lock eyes and Shouyou smiles, glowing even brighter. It’s a little bit too much for Tobio’s heart to handle, but at the same, not enough. But he’ll have his fill soon—not that he was ever truly empty.

Shouyou only allows Tobio a few seconds to brace himself and then he’s careening fast towards him, luggage and all. Tobio lets out an _‘oopf’_ when a seventy-kilogram dumbass collides in his chest. 

“ _Waaah!_ Did you miss me, Tobio? I missed you _soooo_ much!” his husband shouts in Tobio’s face, strong arms wind tight around his torso. Then he proceeds to push his face on Tobio’s chest, nuzzling and letting out deep, contented sigh. 

“Shou, you’re crushing me…can’t breathe…” Tobio wheezes, but he’s embracing him just as fiercely, feeling his warmth seep and sink into his bones, inhaling his scent of beaches and sunshine. 

Shouyou looks up at Tobio with that wide-eyed, rosy cheeks awe he still carries even in adulthood. “Really? I’m crushing you? Wow, that upper body workout really paid off!” he prattles, then hugs Tobio harder. 

“Yeah…" A _lot_ can be said about Shouyou’s arms, along with the rest of him. They’ve seen each other on video calls and in the flesh just two months ago during the World League, but Tobio still intends to make a _very thorough_ examination when they get home. 

Still, his hands can’t help but smooth his palms over the firm, bronzed biceps, squeezing the hard muscles. 

“Keep it in your pants, Tobio,” Shouyou teases, disentangling himself only to fling those arms around Tobio’s neck. He smiles tenderly. “I missed you.” 

“Missed you, too,” Tobio responds, to both the sentiment and the smile. He ducks down just as his husband leans up, lips meeting in a quick kiss, yet soft and sweet all the same. 

When they part, Shouyou’s gaze momentarily flickers away before they’re back on Tobio, his cheeks flushed pink. “People are staring,” he breathes over Tobio’s lips, but doesn’t make any actual movements to pull away. Not that Tobio will allow him.

“Yeah?” he chuckles, tugging the other man closer by his waist. “Let’s give them something to stare at, then.” 

The words are barely out when he captures those lips again into a deeper, more fervent kiss, mouths parting eagerly, readily, tasting everything that time and distance has molded into something fonder, sweeter. It’s the taste of victories and losses, of _‘I’m going to win’_ and _‘you were amazing.’_

It’s the taste of all the longing and comfort and love, of old and new promises, of together and always. 

It’s the taste of there’s no one but you.

**Author's Note:**

> You know I wouldn't do that to my precious babies ฅʕ•̫͡•ʔฅ
> 
> ***
> 
> I love getting feedbacks, and they motivate me tremendously, so drop them in the comments! Kudos are also appreciated :) Thank you for reading! ♥️
> 
> scream about kagehina or hq in general with me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/artemisia_hq?s=09) or [tumblr](https://artemisia--hq.tumblr.com)
> 
> i have more self-indulgent kagehinas in a mixed bag of fluff, smut, and everything in between [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisia_HQ/works)


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